


Catch My Breath

by Harmako



Category: BNA: Brand New Animal (Anime)
Genre: Angst, BNA but I wrote the things that were never said, Because that’s what I do best, Best Friends, Beta Read, But the ending is slightly rewritten, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Friends to Lovers, I take matters into my own hands, Love Confessions, Reconciliation, Relationship Study, Shirou is only briefly mentioned, Spoilers for the entirety of BNA, Two girls who really need to talk about their feelings, a little bit of fluff and angst, slow burn(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmako/pseuds/Harmako
Summary: Michiru had to face it—she would keep chasing after Nazuna no matter what.
Relationships: Hiwatashi Nazuna/Kagemori Michiru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 107





	Catch My Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [kuriwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriwrites) and [raikeirou](https://twitter.com/raikeirou) for beta reading this fic and encouraging me to put my writing out there in the first place! You guys are awesome. 
> 
> 12/30/20: Revised this fic! Made a couple edits, changed the description up a bit. Thank you so much for all the love this fic has received!
> 
> I absolutely adore BNA, and I adore Michiru and Nazuna even more, lol. Their relationship was so complicated, and after rewatching the show on Netflix, I felt the urge to attempt to justify Nazuna’s questionable behaviour and treatment of Michiru, which many took as reason to hate her. Sooooo... I decided to write a bit of a "behind the scenes" (an over exaggerated) look into Michiru and Nazuna’s characters and feelings, their relationship, and what they went through in the second half of the show.
> 
> They were, and are, totally girlfriends, by the way.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When Michiru ripped the Silver Wolf pendant from around her neck, she’d felt as if she was ripping out her own heart. When she threw it away, as far as she could, all of her hopes and dreams, her joy and her solace, went with it. 

There would be no Michiru and Nazuna. 

Not like the old days—not anymore.

The old Nazuna was dead. Torn from Michiru’s life and forced into another, sculpted to fit in a misshapen mould. Nazuna had said it herself— _“I’m no longer Nazuna, I’m Déesse Louve!”_

Michiru felt anger, then. Anger at what she’d lost. Anger at what could have been. What they could have had before this disease, before Anima City, and before Nazuna had been caught up in this cult.

Michiru couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , be friends with ‘Déesse Louve.’

It fit with what Nazuna had wanted, right? She was a leader now, the face of the Silver Wolf Order. An idol. Admired and adored by all. 

Maybe Nazuna was right. Maybe Michiru was impulsive, liked to jump headfirst into everything, relied more on her instincts than logic.

But Nazuna had made it seem like she was nothing but a bother. A selfish leech, clinging to Nazuna and refusing to let go.

Maybe it had been nothing but a lie, a facade. It was almost as if Nazuna had never needed her, slipped on a mask of complacency, trust, and affection as easily as the makeup she wore to her auditions.

But that couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. It had all felt so real, with Nazuna. Those summer days in the park, sitting side by side on that familiar bench, a pair of wireless earbuds shared between them.

Nazuna had used her, and yet Michiru couldn’t hate her for it. She couldn’t find it inside her to scream and cry and curse her (former) best friend’s name. That would be a perfectly reasonable response. A normal response to finding out that your best friend may not have been your best friend at all. That the trust, honesty and love Michiru had felt was so important had not been so important to Nazuna.  
But even that was wrong. Nazuna was not her former best friend—she was still Michiru’s best friend.

At least, in Michiru’s mind.

She’d never thought, never imagined she’d _run_ from Nazuna, and yet that is what she had done.

They’d been there for each other through thick and thin, the good and the bad. From basketball games (Nazuna had always cheered her on), to auditions (Michiru had always insisted she’d show up to every one), to hospital beds (even injured, they were always by each other’s sides, woozy grins to match). 

Like two halves of a whole—Michiru had never questioned their friendship, never stopped to think that perhaps Nazuna could have thought differently. Seen differently. 

Maybe that was just another part of Nazuna’s accusations. Maybe Michiru never _did_ stop to think, to consider her actions, and the consequences they held. Maybe she just wasn’t good at communicating with others, at understanding what they felt.

She hadn't known, she still didn’t know.

But it hurt her, deep down, in a place she never knew it could hurt, to realize that perhaps Nazuna had never needed her in the way Michiru had needed Nazuna.

The way Michiru had _still_ needed Nazuna.

* * *

_“You’re doing it again, Michiru. That habit of yours—you assume something to be true, run in under false pretences, and get yourself mixed up in something you shouldn’t.”_

Michiru had been foolish, stupid even, to think that Nazuna was still her best friend. It was clear that, from the moment Nazuna had made her way over to Alan Sylvasta’s side, she’d still been left in the dark, and that the familiar and smiling demeanour Nazuna had worn upon their reunion only days before had been nothing but a coverup. 

Nazuna had hidden things from her, important, _crucial_ things. Information she would have shared in a heartbeat only a year ago. That alone was a sign of change, a sign of dismissiveness, really. Nazuna simply wanted nothing more than to live her dream, to continue to be a symbol of hope for Beastmen everywhere. It might not have been the exact pop idol fantasy she’d concocted in her mind, but it filled the void nonetheless.

Nazuna would stand on that metaphorical stage, setting and audience be damned—as long as she was the idol she’d always wanted to be. It didn’t matter if she had to lie to thousands of Beastmen, it didn’t matter if she pretended she was someone she was not. It didn’t matter if Michiru wasn’t there by her side.

Michiru had always thought they would stand on that stage _together_. Perhaps not physically, but in spirit, at least. Michiru cheering Nazuna on, supporting her every step of the way. 

The truth was that Michiru didn’t care. She didn’t care if Nazuna pretended to be Ginrou, if Nazuna was an imposter, not as long as they could be together. If that was what Nazuna wanted, then Michiru would be there for her. Perhaps she disagreed with the Order of the Silver Wolf, and what they stood for. She had no faith in them.  
But she had faith in Nazuna.

The way Nazuna stood opposite her now told Michiru one thing: Nazuna clearly didn't need Michiru’s faith in her.

She hadn’t understood. A part of her was furious that she still felt that pain, the hurt in that deep place inside of her she couldn’t erase. 

The hurt she’d slowly come to recognize as the Nazuna-shaped hole in her heart.

At that moment, Michiru made a decision. She decided that this was not Nazuna. This was Déesse Louve.

That is what Michiru constructed in her head. Two people, two separate entities. One Nazuna, the other Déesse Louve. 

It helped to numb the pain.

She had to face it—she would keep chasing after Nazuna no matter what.  
She was indecisive, she knew that. First she’d run, now she chased.  
Shirou had never trusted Nazuna. An imposter. In hindsight, of course he’d had a reason to dislike her. But even then, Michiru couldn’t bring herself to do the same.

No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t hate the person she’d always loved.  
Because that was what this was, right? She loved Nazuna. Nazuna was Michiru’s best friend.

How could one person be the cause of so much joy—of belonging and light, but the very same cause of such heartache, of sadness and grief?

So Michiru met Nazuna’s eyes, in that dull, grey lab as her other half stood by Alan’s side.

She poured all of that hurt, the hurt from that deep place, her pain and her inner strife, into her gaze, a silent plea.

For just a moment, she swore she saw that same pain reflected back at her in Nazuna’s eyes.

* * *

But then, suddenly, it was all okay. 

Michiru didn’t know how, or why, but somehow she and Nazuna were fine. They were all right, the two of them, their pain forgotten, or, if she was brave enough to hope, gone for good.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Michiru wasn’t so sure if it was the truth. Perhaps they were simply lying to each other, to themselves, conditioning themselves into _thinking_ it was all right.

At least they were together, on that soft and silky bed, hours before Anima City’s concert, humming their favourite tune.

She found herself smiling softly at Nazuna, and was surprised to find Nazuna smiling back at her just the same.

There was something in the ruby eyes of her best friend Michiru could not decipher. She decided it was a good thing.

They did not talk about that day, the day Michiru had thrown that silver pendant away. They did not talk about Alan, or the Church of the Silver Wolf.  
Instead, they talked of the concert, of Anima City, and of the Beastmen. They laughed alongside each other, remembering old memories in mutual fondness, and Michiru found herself wondering whether or not the events of the last month had been nothing but a dream.

Michiru found herself basking in that familiar joy, that light—Nazuna. Michiru’s father had once said that often you were friends with someone because you envied them, or perhaps they had something you did not.

Michiru thought that maybe she understood that now. Nazuna was fire, she was hope, she was the only star that Michiru could ever see in the night sky.  
Michiru envied that about her. 

But she also didn’t.

For Nazuna was fire, bright, burning, _unpredictable_ fire. She blazed along a treacherous path, changing course at the slightest gust of wind. Whenever it suited her.  
She was cunning, crafty, and smart. She was a fox, it was in her very genes, if her Beastman form was anything to go by.

Some could say Michiru was the same. An untameable fire, brash and bold. But she thought that she was different. She was the warmest flame, a gentle comfort, then the strongest inferno, headstrong and determined when she needed to be. When the ones she loved were threatened. Perhaps, like Nazuna, she was unpredictable, perhaps she relied on too much of her instincts and too little of much else, but Nazuna was a different kind of unpredictable. Nazuna was driven by her goals, consumed by her ideals, and that was all she needed. She had no need to chase after Michiru like Michiru chased after her, because for Nazuna, Michiru had been nothing but a nuisance in the end. An obstacle in her path to her—with the help of Boris and the Church—now attainable dreams.

But that was not what Michiru had ever wanted. She did not want to chase, to run, to plead. She did not want to be nothing but a thorn in Nazuna’s side.

Michiru thought that, just maybe, Nazuna was blinded. Blinded by her ambition, her ideals.  
Michiru knew that it was not only Nazuna at fault for their separation, their pain. Of course, she’d come to realize that while what Nazuna had told her that day—the day Michiru had thrown the pendant away—may have been a little over exaggerated, influenced by Nazuna’s anger, it was not entirely untrue. 

Michiru was impulsive, she was bold, brave and driven by her instincts.  
But she was kind. She was strong. She would never help others just to benefit herself.  
Just to _feel good about herself_ , as Nazuna had said.

One could say that Nazuna and Michiru were two halves of one whole, that there could not be one without the other. Michiru certainly thought so. They were the simmering blue flames, the hottest fire, and the orange, wild flame when exposed to the air. They were the spark and then the blaze, fuel for each other. 

Perhaps as soon as Nazuna realized that she lacked her fuel, she had come crawling back to Michiru.

But that made Michiru wonder now, as she stared into Nazuna’s smiling face, relaxed demeanour and her head as she bobbed to the music, if this was just another of Nazuna’s tricks.

But it couldn’t be. One thing was clear to Michiru: this person, the one in front of her, was not Déesse Louve. This was Nazuna, the Nazuna she’d spent her whole life with, the Nazuna she’d thrown herself onto a road to save, the Nazuna she had shared her earbuds with at the park every day.

But her mental image of Nazuna was shrouded in a fog, overshadowed by Déesse Louve. It frustrated her to no end, the uncertainty, the confusion. It had been easy to distinguish the two, back before, when Nazuna shunned Michiru for the sake of her dream. Back when she stood by Boris and the Order of the Silver Wolf and lied to Michiru’s face. Back when Michiru hadn’t been sure if she could trust her own best friend.

It was hard for her to digest, the notion that she _still_ wasn’t sure if she could trust Nazuna.

But it didn’t matter, she came to realize. 

Michiru was content to sit here, beside Nazuna, just to revel in the fact that they were together. She would smile, she would sing along to their favourite song, with nothing other than the coming concert on her mind.

Michiru would hope, she would pray, that this was real. That this was Nazuna truly coming back to her, that this was Nazuna with the realization that her fuel was gone, that without Michiru, she could no longer blaze on. That Nazuna’s eyes had been opened.  
She prayed that Déesse Louve was no more. 

* * *

Everything moved in pictures.

Almost like a movie, except Michiru was the main character.

Her ears rang, deafened by the concert. The music, the cheers and the amplified sound of Nazuna’s voice blended together into one constant hum.

Michiru thought that maybe she should be nervous, scared, even, but it was as if a blanket had descended over her. It muffled everything but the burning of Shirou’s eyes in her mind as he told her that he trusted her, that he knew Michiru could stop Nazuna’s confession.

Even her panic upon the realization that Nazuna was on her way to center stage instead of the sidelines, where she was supposed to be before her next song, was dampened by her resolve.

She could still do this.

Michiru saw nothing but Nazuna as she piloted the giant Silver Wolf, made by the Beastmen of Anima City as a gift for a god who had never been a god at all, toward the center stage.

The crowd hushed, but Michiru hardly noticed the sudden lack of sound.

Michiru lowered the mechanical head of the Silver Wolf and leaned forward suddenly, the urgency of the situation momentarily cutting through the fog blanketing her thoughts. She threw the metal jaws open, and there Nazuna was.

Her best friend’s eyes were blown wide in shock, microphone slipping out of her hands.

Michiru paid no attention to the thousands of Beastmen watching, nor Boris and the cult watching from the shadows offstage. They could not see her, for the metal Ginrou was her shield.

“Nazuna!”

Michiru locked eyes with the fox Beastman, a plea in her gaze. She could not let Nazuna confess to the world that she was human, to the thousands of faithful Beastmen who had been lied to. But would Nazuna do so anyway? After all, when had Michiru’s words meant anything to her now that she was an idol, a leader, just as she’d always wanted?

She prayed for Nazuna, for her fire and her fuel, to understand. She prayed that in that moment, she could stop running, chasing—

“Please. You have to trust me.”

Nazuna peered up at her, a question in her eyes.

But also an answer.

“You better explain this later.”

Nazuna did not confess to being human. She lied her way out in the form of gratitude. After all, the giant mechanical Silver Wolf the city had made for her was magnificent.

But that did not matter to Michiru.

What mattered was that Nazuna had _trusted_ her, had done what Michiru had asked… even when on the stage. Even as she lived her very dream.

That alone meant something to Michiru, something deep and something _powerful._

She realized then, crouched between those metal fangs as she smiled down at Nazuna, that perhaps Déesse Louve and Nazuna Hiwatashi were one in the same.

That perhaps Déesse Louve was simply Nazuna’s dream. Déesse Louve was what Nazuna had wanted herself to be. Déesse Louve was Nazuna blinded by her goals and her wishes, her ideals and her ambition, blinded enough that she had momentarily forgotten her place.

Her place beside Michiru, her other half, her fire and her fuel, all in one.

They were both Nazuna, she came to understand. They were both the only star Michiru could ever see in the night sky, both Michiru’s best friend and both the person Michiru loved, the person she could never live without. Nazuna was Déesse Louve.

Even amidst the noise, on a stage in a city filled with volatile Beastmen and danger crowding in from every side, Michiru was able to feel peace. The first peace she’d felt since Nazuna’s kidnapping. 

She could stop running. 

* * *

It was a beautiful day. Blue sky, brighter than a sapphire dipped in the sea, and not a single wisp of cloud in sight. The sun was a warm, amber ball hanging on the early morning horizon, a pleasant and constant warmth. Nothing spectacular, no flaming sunset, warm and beautiful and bright, there was no galaxy studded night, but it was beautiful nonetheless—after all, when could one ever enjoy such little city smog?

It was a very great day to play basketball, if you asked Michiru.

She dribbled her ball aimlessly, careful not to throw it off the roof of the Co-op. Her open, fond conversation with Shirou still fresh in her mind, Michiru was content to simply close her eyes and feel the breeze on her face, relishing in the joy and freedom she felt now that both the true Silver Wolf—Shirou—and Anima City were safe.

“Michiru!”

Her eyes popped open at the sound of her name, and Michiru grinned stupidly as she saw Nazuna alight on the roof a few feet away, feathery pink wings twisting in the breeze.

Her best friend smiled back at her and extended a hand.

An invitation.

And Michiru knew she would always take it.

In that moment, as she looked into Nazuna’s warm, ruby eyes, Michiru finally understood.

She remembered the hurt, the hurt in that deep place inside of her. She remembered the feeling of emptiness, the feeling of loss. Michiru remembered Déesse Louve, and what was _not_ Déesse Louve. The part of Nazuna she had tried to forget, but had come to realize was simply part of her best friend. Without Déesse Louve, there was no Nazuna, and without Nazuna, there was no Déesse Louve.

She remembered the good, too. She saw those warm summer nights clearly in her mind, before the accident, when it was just Michiru and Nazuna against the world. She heard the soft melody of _Night Running_ in her ears, remembered the laughter and smiles they had shared.

Michiru remembered her sheer relief, her joy, at Nazuna’s first appearance in Anima City. How she’d practically thrown herself into the silver fox’s arms, finally at ease in knowing Nazuna was safe.

Knowing that her second half, her fire and her fuel, was all right—that Nazuna had missed her just as much as Michiru had. 

She could understand, now, why Nazuna had said the things she had mere days afterward. Why she hid under a false persona, why she became Déesse Louve. Nazuna had never meant to hurt Michiru. But she’d let her dreams, her goals, get in the way.

In Nazuna’s scarlet gaze, Michiru could see more than an invitation.

She could see an apology. A plea for forgiveness. A final question, one that Nazuna asked now.

Nazuna asked for her trust, her friendship, once again. And Michiru knew Nazuna never intended to hurt her again.

But Michiru realized that what this was was not simply friendship, nor simply trust. It was something so much deeper, so much more profound.

She understood now how one person could be the cause of so much joy; of belonging, and light, but the very same cause of such heartache, of sadness and grief. 

Michiru was in love with Nazuna.

She always had been.

Nazuna was her fire, she was light when all Michiru could see was darkness. Like Michiru fuelled Nazuna, Nazuna fuelled her, they were each other’s stability, comfort, and familiarity.

“Michiru?”

So Michiru did the only thing she could do.

She grabbed Nazuna’s hand, accepted that invitation—answered her question.

She pulled Nazuna close and kissed her, right there on the edge of that roof in the sapphire sky.

When they pulled apart, Nazuna just stared at her.  
And then she smiled.

Michiru knew right then that Nazuna loved her just as much.

They didn’t need words to express that.

She smiled back, feeling lighter than air.

Nazuna squeezed her hand tighter and spread her wings.

“How about we go get something to eat?” 

Michiru stepped onto the corner of the roof, right next to Nazuna, where she was always meant to be. The two of them, spark and flame, the fuel and the fire. Michiru could finally breathe again, for her running was over. It had been, from the minute Nazuna and Déesse Louve overlapped in Michiru’s mind, when Michiru realized that Nazuna and Déesse Louve were not one, but coexisting. Nazuna and her dreams, her goals. There could not be one without the other.  
Her running had been over from the minute Nazuna could see clearly again, when she asked, once more, for Michiru’s trust and forgiveness. For Michiru’s love. But she knew now that there would never be a chase again, for the two of them would carry on together, side by side.

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! A lot of work went into this fic, so I greatly appreciate kudos + comments <3


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